The Candid Life of Meena Dave(64)

Someone knocked on the door. “Come in.” She’d left it unlocked, as a test for herself.

The aunties walked in. Meena stood, left the books on the sofa, and met them at the table.

She’d barely seen Sabina or Uma since she’d gotten back. Tanvi had a casserole dish in her hand.

Meena greeted them. “Hi.”

“Your door was unlocked.” Uma came in. “Are you feeling OK?”

“I’m trying.” She’d been practicing a few times a week to get comfortable with the idea.

“We’re proud of you. And we always knock first. So don’t worry about us interrupting anything.” Tanvi put the dish on the dining table. “I made my specialty, aandvo. Come sit.”

“I can make coffee,” Meena offered.

“I don’t drink that bitter, burned stuff,” Tanvi said. “Uma will make chai.”

“Do you have milk?” Uma asked.

Meena nodded.

Uma rolled up the sleeves of her bulky sweater and washed her hands. “Get a notebook, or take a video with your phone. You’re going to learn, and then you’re going to practice. Next time we come by, you’ll be able to make it for us.”

Meena was a little taken aback. Then she realized this was an opportunity not only to learn something that seemed to be part of their culture, and possibly her own, but also to find a way to bring the conversation around to Neha’s relatives, or the one that could be Meena’s.

“Do you have fresh ginger?” Sabina asked.

“I don’t.”

“I’ll run up and get it,” Tanvi said.

Meena leaned against the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing?” Uma asked. “Go get something to take down the recipe.”

Meena grabbed her phone from the living room. “OK, I’m ready.”

“The ingredients first.” Uma pointed to the various tins she’d lain out. “Loose black tea. Wagh Bakri is the only brand that’s worth a damn. You get it at Patel Brothers in Waltham. Don’t go to any fancy tea shops. You want proper black tea for chai.”

Meena aimed the camera and recorded.

“Next, this small tin has premade masala. Sabina makes hers from scratch, I buy mine. This is Sabina’s she’d given to Neha. It’s old, but chai and masala don’t spoil.” Uma sniffed. “It’ll do for now. I will add more than typical because it might not be as strong as fresh masala.”

“How do you make it?”

“You combine ginger powder, nutmeg, cinnamon, cardamom, and black pepper. Grind it all together.”

“But Tanvi went to get fresh ginger.”

“Because you can never have too much ginger in tea,” Sabina said. “That’s the way I prefer it.”

“I add fresh tulsi, an Indian mint.” Uma pulled a pot from the cabinet. “We grow it in the backyard in the summer, then dry it out for the winter.”

“We all have our own preference.” Sabina took milk from the fridge. “Once you have the variations, you’ll find that perfect balance for you.”

Meena liked the idea of having her own chai recipe. “What’s the version for people who like coffee?”

“Kadak. Strong chai, brewed longer before adding milk, and then simmered for over ten minutes after,” Sabina said.

“First you boil water.” Uma turned the stove to medium heat. “I prefer a one-to-one ratio. Sabina does one and a half cups water and three-fourths cup milk, and Tanvi a quarter cup water and the rest milk.”

“I like mine jaadi.” Tanvi came back. “Fat, thick.”

“Once it is boiling, one spoon of tea for each cup. We’re making six, but I’m going to add five and a half. A teaspoon of masala, and a lot of freshly grated ginger.” Uma used a hand grater right over the pot.

Meena recorded Uma and the teapot. The water was black, with masala and flecks of ginger among the tea. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s aashrae,” Tanvi clarified. “Approximate.”

“Indian cooking,” Sabina said, “is about feel and instinct, not exact. Artful, not scientific. The more you do it, the better you get.”

Meena filmed each woman as she spoke. She vowed to go back over the video and write the recipe down, to practice making chai until it became as instinctual for her as it was for the aunties.

“Then you add milk.” Uma poured it into the pot of boiling tea, water, and masala. “Let it come to a boil. Once it gets to the point that it is going to boil over, you lower the heat and let it simmer. The longer you let it cook, the stronger the chai.”

Meena recorded Uma pouring the chai from the pot into mugs through a small handheld strainer. The kitchen came alive with the warm and sweet aroma.

“When it comes to sugar, it’s up to each person to add after.” Sabina added two teaspoons, stirred, and handed the mug to Meena. That she remembered that Meena liked sweet chai made Meena pause.

With plates in hand, they sat around the kitchen table. Tanvi served a slice of savory cake made of rice, lentils, shredded squash, and spices and coated with sesame seeds. It was delicious. In their designated seats, they chatted. Meena told them about Seoul and K-pop, after which Tanvi added BTS to her Spotify. They told her about parasailing in Saint Bart’s and Uma seeing piranhas while swimming.